Needing Kitty
by lilyjack00
Summary: Matt searched for some sign of the Kitty he knew and loved, a woman full of fire and sass, outrageous beauty and gritty determination. Was she still in there? Or had they broken her? ATC for Hostage! This is a sequel of sorts to Finding Kitty, and contains brief references to that story.
1. Chapter 1

Needing Kitty

by Lilyjack

_ATC for "Hostage!" original air date December 11, 1972, written by Paul F. Edwards, directed by Gunnar Hellstrom. This story is told in Fic Time, not to be mistaken for Real Time. Recovery from the sort of emotional and physical trauma which Kitty experienced in this episode would actually have taken a lengthy period of time which I have shortened to accommodate the limitations of this short story. Many thanks to DK who suggested the idea. Many thanks also to Glow1012 for invaluable guidance on this very sensitive topic. And thank you as always to singerme, my superbetagirl who tolerates my relentless neediness and catches my goofs. _

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Chapter 1

"I don't need your help right now, Matt. I wish you'd just leave!"

Kitty's words stung. Matt hung his head thoughtfully for a moment, took his hat off the peg on the back of the door and resignedly sighed, "Alright, Kitty." He scratched his stubbly cheek and wouldn't meet her eyes. Since Kitty had been hurt by Jude Bonner and his gang, he hadn't had much time for the niceties of life, like shaving. "You know where to find me if you need me."

Kitty shook from head to toe, but it wasn't entirely in anger. She couldn't explain it, even to herself, clutching her dressing gown more tightly around her body as she watched Matt close the door behind him. Why should she feel frightened right now? Why on earth would Matt's touch turn the blood in her veins to ice water? Her own visceral reaction when he'd tried to help her undress for her bath had taken her entirely by surprise and she'd panicked, snapping at him and sending him away with his tail tucked between his legs.

He had only been trying to help. He'd brought her home from Doc's place only this morning, even though Doc wasn't ready for her to leave just yet. Doc had fussed, cajoled and finally pleaded with her to stay for a while longer, until she had healed properly and was feeling stronger, but Kitty wanted to go home. She was ready to go home right now. And when she pressed her lips into a thin line and crossed her arms like that, Doc realized that, despite her frail condition and weak voice, she was bound and determined to have her way. There was no arguing with that stubborn redhead.

And so Matt and Doc had taken her home in the wee hours of the morning, way after the Long Branch had been closed up for the night and long before daylight when the citizens of Dodge would be up and bustling around. Kitty Russell didn't want anyone to see her like this. They'd seen enough out on Front Street when Jude Bonner had left her, beaten and raped, and then shot her right there in front of everyone. She shuddered at the thought that people would be discussing that story in hushed voices, behind closed doors, for a long time to come.

She had attempted to make the walk home by herself. She really had tried. But she was out of breath and weak in the knees before she could even get halfway down Doc's steep staircase. Doc opened his mouth to protest, to say "I told you so" and order her swiftly back inside, but Matt took one look at her face, so disappointed and yet so determined, and he swept her into his arms with a firm look at Doc. He hurriedly carried her up her back steps and let Doc unlock the door with his key, tied with a grimy, tattered pale green ribbon Kitty had given him years ago. Doc didn't bat an eyelash. He just dropped the key back in Matt's vest pocket and went inside to light a small lamp and turn back the covers of Kitty's bed. They'd tucked her in carefully and she'd sighed in enormous relief at being home in her own bed. And then she closed her eyes, falling into an exhausted sleep immediately.

Doc and Matt studied each other across her sleeping form, and Doc shook his head in sorrow and anger and frustration, that this should have happened to the woman he loved like a daughter. Those men had hurt her badly, and not just physically. It would take Kitty a long time to recover physically, but he knew it would take an even longer time for her to recover emotionally. Doc patted Matt silently on the arm and closed the door behind him. Matt sat in a chair beside the bed to watch over Kitty while she slept.

Sitting there in the dim lamplight beside her, Matt was reminded of a time years ago, when they were both still young and just falling in love, and he'd sat by her bedside after the Gunther brothers had kidnapped and beaten her. The night before, he'd crouched outside in the bushes, lying in wait for them to take just one damn step out the door of the cabin so that he could shoot them dead. And that's what he'd done. They'd hurt Kitty and he'd made them pay the price. He'd been so afraid then of what the murderous bank-robbing brothers might be doing to her inside that cabin. So afraid for her.

Matt's gut churned as he looked at Kitty now, so small and frail in her bed. He felt sick because his worst nightmare had ultimately come true. Jude Bonner and his men had brutalized her, raped and beaten her until she barely had the will to survive. But he'd told her, he _needed_ her. _I need you, Kitty_. And finally he'd seen the old spark in her eyes. He'd told her a thousand times over the years that he loved her. But he wanted her to know, _I need you. I'm not complete without you._ And he saw in her eyes then that she would try for him. She would make it.

And then he'd gone after those animals. He'd had a thirst for their blood in his heart. He wanted Jude Bonner to die. "Bonner! I'm here to kill ya!" he'd growled when he'd hunted down the dog soldiers on the blistering hot prairie. And he meant it. He would have smashed that bastard's skull in with a rock if half of Dodge had not been standing there watching. He could have done it easily and not felt a lick of remorse. He hated the man and he would gladly pull the trapdoor lever when the time came to hang his worthless carcass.

Matt gazed at Kitty lying in her bed and his chest tightened painfully. It broke his heart to see her this way. Bruised and battered, face pale and drawn, exhaustion evident in both her features and her still form. He searched for some sign of the Kitty he knew and loved, a woman full of fire and sass, outrageous beauty and gritty determination. Was she still in there? Or had they broken her?

And then Kitty had awoken, and she'd wanted a bath. More than anything, she needed to wash those vicious dog soldiers from her skin, to erase their touch, their smell, their memory even. Matt had asked Sam to help him haul hot water upstairs for her bathtub, and she'd lain quietly in bed, watching them, not speaking. And then when Sam had closed the door behind him, Matt had approached her, ready to help her undress and step into the steaming water, but she had panicked. She had lashed out at him, refused his help. And he had left, stricken, confused, wondering what he had done to make her angry.

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"So there you are, young fella'..."

Matt tipped his hat back and scooted over so Doc could join him on Kitty's back staircase. She'd made it plain she didn't want him around, but he'd also wanted to be within shouting distance in case she needed him. "Young fella'? I don't feel too awful young today. You haven't called me that in a long time."

"Yeah, well, you'll always be a young fella' to me, you know." Doc wrinkled his nose and scrubbed his mustache with a finger. "What in blue blazes are you doin' hidin' back here?"

"I'm afraid Kitty's mad at me, Doc."

"Mad at ya'? She hasn't had time to get mad at ya' yet."

"Oh, yes she has. She ordered me out."

Doc muttered thoughtfully, "Ordered you out, huh? Why? What'd you do?"

"Nuthin', Doc, I swear. I was just tryin' to help her. She wanted to take a bath." Matt's ears turned pink at the admission. "Well, it wasn't like I was doin' anything out of the ordinary."

Doc tugged at his ear and squinted up at him. "No, not for you, but, Matt, Kitty has been through an awful lot. You know that."

"Well, sure I know that, but...heck, it's just me!" He held out his arms helplessly. "Why is she gettin' mad at me?"

"Maybe she's not mad. Maybe she's scared."

"Scared?"

"Matt, while you were gone, when she finally woke up, she was plenty scared, I tell ya'. She'd jump when I'd come in the room unexpected, flinch when I touched her. She may not like to be touched, Matt. Not at all. You know what they did to her..."

Matt hung his head, half-heartedly brushing the dust off his boots with his hands. "Yeah, Doc, I know."

"I'm afraid it may take her a long time to get over this. To get over bein' afraid. And she's angry, too. But if she acts angry, she may not really be angry with you. She's angry with herself."

"Herself? What do you mean?" Matt dusted his hands together.

"She told me she blamed herself for what happened. I don't know why and it doesn't make sense to me, but she does. She feels awful guilty. And she's worried that you might not love her anymore."

"She told you that?"

"She doesn't have to. I can tell."

"Well, dammit, Doc, she won't give me a chance. She won't let me close to her."

"Give her time, Matt. It's gonna take a lot of time and patience. It won't happen overnight. She's been hurt bad, and not just physically. Do you understand that? You remember those boys you fought with in the war? The ones that couldn't take the killing and the maiming and the loss? You remember what they were like? Kitty's heart and mind have gone through something bad like that. It changes you forever. Matt, all you can do is be there for her, no matter what."

Matt's brow furrowed in thought and he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Doc, could you...?"

"I'll go talk to her."

"Thanks, Doc."

"Don't mention it."

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Doc knocked quietly on Kitty's door so as not to startle her. A faint voice, just an echo of its former vivacious self, sounded from within, "Come in."

Doc shuffled inside and found Kitty pulling herself upright in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Setting his worn, black leather bag on her nightstand, he smilingly asked, "Did I wake you? I'm sure sorry, but I needed to see how my favorite patient was getting on."

"I'm fine, Doc." She pulled the covers higher, tucking them protectively under her arms.

Doc opened his bag, took out his stethoscope. "I'm just going to listen to your heart now, Kitty. Is that okay?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes and held her breath when he touched her with the instrument.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly. "Can I take your pulse now?"

She nodded wordlessly and he gently took her wrist between his thumb and two fingers and found that her pulse was racing madly. Doc took off his stethoscope, dropping it back into his bag and dragged a chair up close to the bed. He sat down and scrubbed a hand over his face thoughtfully before he spoke. "Sweetheart, you know that I'd do anything in the world to take away the hurt you're goin' through right now, don't you?"

Mutely, Kitty nodded, not daring to look at anything save her hands folded quietly in her lap. She pressed her lips tightly together.

"I only have the merest idea of what you might be experiencing right now." He started to reach out and pat her hand comfortingly, but then caught himself. "I know you're frightened."

Kitty's brows knit together at his words.

"And I know you're angry." He shook his head. "But you've got a perfect right to be. What you're feeling is entirely normal." Taking off his hat, he laid it on top of his bag and sat back. He crossed his legs and waited quietly, giving her the opportunity to speak.

Finally, her voice came out in a hoarse whisper, "I feel like it's all my fault, Doc."

"That's preposterous. How could it be your fault, Kitty?"

"I should have done something...anything...to stop it."

"They were going to cut old Woody Lathrop's throat. Kill him dead if you hadn't come out and given yourself up. Sam told me. You had no choice."

"And now..." She held out her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I'm a mess. I know Matt must..." Her breath hiccupped. "...I know he must hate me."

"No, Kitty, no, absolutely not. He does not hate you." Doc scooted his chair closer to her, but still did not try and touch her. "He blames himself. He hasn't said a word, no, not the big tough marshal, but I know him. This is about to kill him, honey. Don't you see? You're both blaming yourselves and it's nobody's fault except Jude Bonner's."

Silent tears began to streak down Kitty's face as she twisted the quilt in her fingers.

"Kitty, it's going to take a lot of time. And patience. Matt loves you. More than you'll ever know. But you have to give yourself time, you hear? You've gotta give yourself time to heal, not just outside, but inside too. Do you understand?"

She mutely nodded and wiped her tears with the sleeve of her nightgown. Doc dug a hankie out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Quit blaming yourself for what happened. And understand that Matt will have to learn to be patient with you while you're trying to get over this. I've explained this to him so he understands, alright?"

She sniffled and nodded, "Alright, Doc."

He asked cautiously, "Kitty, can I give you a hug?"

She nodded again, and he enveloped her in his arms for just a few seconds. But in that few seconds he felt her body react to his touch and stiffen, and it made his heart squeeze painfully in his chest-that this loving, outgoing woman he claimed as family had been hurt in such a traumatic manner. He quickly released her, grabbing his hat and his bag. Brushing an errant tear from his careworn cheek, he left her room with a quick goodbye and a promise to check on her later.

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Kitty tightly shut her eyes and held her breath while Doc examined her tender female flesh, where no man except Matt usually touched her. It'd been years since Doc even had to examine her down there, since she bought the Long Branch and was able to stop taking strange men to her bed in order to put food in her mouth. It was then that Doc had finally ceased insisting on regular exams to make sure she hadn't caught something that sent so many girls of her profession to an early grave.

But now, in one terrible afternoon, there had been many men touching her, bruising her, tearing her flesh. Doc had to make sure she hadn't caught a disease from one of those men, and that the injured flesh did not become infected. That could kill her just as easily as Bonner's bullet to her side might've. Kitty's entire body trembled while Doc performed his exam, cleaning her wounds and reapplying salve.

"I'm almost done, Kitty. I'm hurrying, I promise."

Tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes at this new invasion of her privacy and she just prayed for it to be over with. Doc finally pulled her nightgown back down to cover her and tugged the sheet over her body. "All done. You can relax."

He turned his back to go wash his hands and it gave her a chance to recover. She dashed the tears away with her palms and sat up slowly so as not to aggravate her gunshot wound. Drying his hands, Doc hurried over to place a pillow behind her back. "Everything's healing fine down there, Kitty. I shouldn't have to put you through that too many more times. If it weren't for that gunshot wound holding you back, you might be able to fend for yourself here on out."

"Oh, Doc, I think I can manage."

"You want me to get one of your girls to..."

"No, Doc, please, I can manage on my own, honest."

"Alright," he said doubtfully. "But you'll tell me if you need my help, won't you?"

"Yes, Doc, I promise." She smoothed her gown over her lap and pulled the sheet up under her arms, avoiding his gaze.

"Has Matt been up here to see you yet?"

"No."

"Well, why in thunder not?"

"I think..." She took a deep breath. "I think he must not want to be around me anymore, Doc. He probably can't stand the sight of me."

"Will you stop saying that, Kitty? Why would Matt hate you?"

She swallowed hard, tracing the intricate pattern of the quilt with her finger. "Because of what I did, Doc."

"What you did?" Doc was flabbergasted. "You mean the crime that was perpetrated against you, don't you?"

"I should have stopped them, Doc. Somehow."

"Stopped them? How on earth would you have been able to stop all those men? Those...criminals!" Doc swiped a hand over his face in frustration and asked, "Kitty, what could you have done differently?"

Her brow furrowed as she searched for a reasonable reply to Doc's question.

"What if you hadn't come down those stairs, Kitty? What would have happened then?"

She finally looked up at him, and the pain and confusion and misery in her blue eyes tore his heart out.

"You see, Kitty. You had no choice, honey. This is not your fault. This is not Matt's fault. This is all Jude Bonner's fault, and the faster you can quit blaming yourself, the faster you can start healing."

tbc

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	2. Chapter 2

Needing Kitty

by Lilyjack

Chapter 2

Matt deftly balanced a tray of food from Delmonico's in his hand. Tapping lightly on the door in case Kitty was sleeping, he worried that he might unintentionally upset her once again. He felt he was between the proverbial rock and a hard place. He needed to be there for her, but his presence had seemed to upset her sometimes.

"Come in, Matt," a sleep-husky voice called, because Kitty knew his familiar knock by heart.

She was sitting up in bed, using her uninjured side to help raise herself, when he treaded softly into the shadowy room. Setting the tray on her nightstand, he quickly lit a lamp and blew out the match. Cautiously, uneasily, he jammed his hands in his pockets and asked, "How are you feeling, Kitty?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Fine."

His heart sank because in his experience, "fine" was not a good omen signifying the onset of a productive conversation. He figured she must still be mad.

"Sit down, Matt. I'm not hungry right now." He must have appeared hesitant because she added in a gentle tone, "Please."

Kitty picked distractedly at a loose thread on her quilt. She kept her dark-shadowed eyes cast downward, and Matt couldn't tell what she was thinking. Perching gingerly on the opposite edge of the bed, he was careful not to touch her because of what Doc had shared with him. Not for the first time, he felt angry at what Jude Bonner had done to her, had done to _them_, with his barbaric, violent crime. He longed to enfold her in his arms and comfort her, but he couldn't. Bonner had taken that away from them.

Her next words were subdued and sorrowful and most definitely not what he was expecting from her. "I'm sorry, Matt. I'm sorry I got upset with you earlier. I...I don't know what got into me..."

Matt sighed, removing his hat and hanging it on the bedpost. "You don't have to apologize, Kitty. I think I understand."

"I...really...don't know what's the matter with me, Matt. It frightens me. I know that it's you touching me and not those men, but I just...panic." Her voice was small and hollow as she finished, "I don't know why."

Matt's mouth was a thin, angry line as he listened.

She said in a whisper, glancing up at him for just a second, "Do you hate me, Matt? For what happened? I would have stopped it if I could have..."

Matt reached out to clutch her shoulders and pull her to him, but then he remembered. His touch frightened her. Sent her into a panic. Matt's hands fell uselessly into his lap. "No, honey. I'm not mad at you." Looking away, he swallowed the bitter bile in his throat as he thought of what Jude Bonner had done to his sweet girl, and what Bonner had taken from them both. "Kitty, if I could, I'd march down to that jailhouse and put a bullet between Bonner's eyes right this minute. He doesn't deserve to live."

"Please, Matt, don't even think about that." Kitty looked alarmed. "They'd put _you_ in jail then. Promise me...please promise me you won't?"

He released a big breath, scrubbing a hand over his frustrated features. "Only if you'll promise me to stop blaming yourself for what that bastard and his pack of animals did, Kitty. They're the ones to blame, not you."

"But, Matt, what if I can't ever...I mean..." She shook her head and her face crumpled. "I'm scared. I don't like feeling like this. What if you can never touch me again?" Then her voice broke, and she began sobbing broken-heartedly, burying her face in the pillow.

Matt's eyes burned with unshed tears at the sound of her grief and fear. Gingerly he lay on his side on the opposite side of the bed, facing her, being careful not to touch her. He murmured, "Kitty, it'll be alright, honey, don't cry. Doc says it'll just take time. And I've got all the time in the world."

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"_Don't you dare touch me, you filthy son-of-a..."_

"_Whoowee, Red, you got a mouth on you! Come 'ere, little gal. Let me see what else you got."_

_Unrelenting powerful arms holding her down, clutching her hair, no hope of escape. Lifting her skirts, silken underthings ripped, brutally torn from her body. Please no, please stop, you can't do this... _

_All the while they cruelly hit, kick, touch her intimately, taking turns, mercilessly forcing themselves between her legs until she bleeds while sharp pains sear her insides and she is calling, whispering, praying, "Matt, where are you? Please help me..."_

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In the heavy, humid darkness of nighttime, Kitty cried out from the bed beside him, plaintively wailing his name, pleading, "Where are you?"

Groggily, he roused straight up from a deep, dreamless sleep, answering, "I'm right here, honey! I'm right here."

He gathered her in his embrace but she desperately struggled against him, growling fiercely, "No, don't you touch me!" Wrenching herself from his arms, she crouched in a corner of the bed, her nightgown and hair soaked with sweat, a wildly frightened look in her eyes that shocked him and eerily reminded him of a hunter's prey.

He held out his hands in supplication and spoke in a soothing voice. "Kitty, it's me, Matt. It's me, honey. It was just a bad dream."

And then, in an instant, the hunted look was gone. He realized she could see him now, and not the monster in her nightmare.

Again he softly soothed, "It's me. See? It was just a dream..."

Her eyes clouded over and then in a stricken voice she whispered, "No, it wasn't just a dream..." And she began to keen mournfully, the desolate sound making his hair stand on end and his eyes flood with tears. But this time, she let him surround her with his arms.

He was thankful, not just for her, but because he desperately needed to hold her close to him as well. He let her cry on and on, rocking her while tears streaked down his own furrowed, sunburned cheeks and he repeated, over and over, "I'm so sorry, Kitty. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you this time. I'm so sorry, honey."

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Matt hauled one last bucket of water up the stairs, pausing at the top to mop the sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve. Every day since she'd returned to her rooms from Doc's office, Kitty had asked Matt to bring her fresh water to fill her tub. No sponge baths from a wash basin would do. She'd look at him with those pleading blue eyes and he couldn't say no. She couldn't get clean, she'd attempt to explain to him, refusing to meet his eyes. "I feel so..." She'd rub her temples distractedly, then finish in a hushed tone, mortification evident in her expression, "...so dirty, Matt. Please, won't you do this for me?" And of course there's nothing she could ask of him that he would refuse, not now. Not when he still felt everything that had happened to her was all his fault. Not when she was hurting so.

So every day he'd dutifully hauled water up the stairs so she could have her bath and maybe a little peace and relaxation in the bargain. Matt closed her bedroom door behind him and headed for the washroom, the heavy water bucket gripped tightly in one hand. He'd taken several steps inside before he glanced up to see her standing in the middle of the room, naked, preparing to step gingerly into the tub.

His breath caught in his throat and he felt as though he'd been punched in the gut because up until now she had refused to let him see her, to witness the injuries the dog soldiers had wrought upon her tender body. There was hardly an area of her porcelain skin that was not mottled black and purple with deep, unsightly bruises or abrasions, especially, he noticed with a sick stomach, her inner thighs and buttocks. The angry bullet wound in her side was testament to the physical suffering she had been through. But it was the expression on her stricken face as he gazed upon her private shame that broke his heart. He looked squarely into her eyes and asked softly, "Kitty, do you want me to leave? I'm sorry I busted in on you like that. I'm just not used to having to..."

"No, Matt..." She swallowed hard and answered, "You're not used to having to knock." And then she held out a hand to him. Her voice shook as she attempted to sound nonchalant, as if Matt saw her looking this battered and vulnerable every day. "Help me in?"

He set the bucket down and carefully, gently held her hands while she stepped into the bathtub, trying so hard not to look at the damage they'd done to her beautiful body. Tried not to imagine each blow, each vicious stroke that had made the telltale marks on her skin. She sank gratefully down, down, ducking her head beneath the water for a long time, and he realized he was holding his breath, too. Then she came back up, gasping for air and raking her wet hair out of her face. Finally she hugged her knees to her chest and shivered in spite of the warmth of the water. She wouldn't look at him.

Matt asked quietly, "Are you okay?"

Casting an uncertain look over her shoulder at him, she responded in an apprehensive voice, "Are you?"

He grabbed the bucket he'd just hauled upstairs and emptied it into the tub, thinking to himself all the while. Then he squatted next to her and stated softly yet matter-of-factly, "Kitty, you'll heal." He handed her a sponge and her favorite lavender-scented soap and added, his voice thick with emotion, "And no matter what, honey, you'll always be the prettiest girl I ever laid eyes on, you hear?" He stood up, putting his hands on his hips. "You'll always be my girl, and no one can ever change that."

He gave her back her privacy, striding out the door and closing it quietly behind him. Hot tears rolled down her wet cheeks as she chuckled softly to herself, thinking that she hadn't been called a girl in years, but she sure counted herself lucky to be Matt Dillon's girl.

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It had been six weeks. Six weeks exactly since that awful afternoon when Kitty Russell's world was turned upside down. When she was stripped of her dignity and transformed into a helpless victim with no rights, not even the control of her own body. She was still angry. But today she was also very afraid. Her monthly courses had not come as usual and her skin went cold and clammy with utter dread. What if she was carrying a child?

Doc said he would be able to tell at six weeks. Sharing her awful news with Matt, they had whispered their anxious conversation deep into the uncertain, sticky summer night. What to do? Wait until Doc can tell for sure. Wait until six weeks. Weeks of waiting and worrying, trepidation gnawing at her belly where a baby might be growing inside her. The baby of a killer. A dog soldier. Maybe Jude Bonner himself. She shivered at the very idea of a child of his growing inside her, sharing her blood and the very air that she breathed.

What would she do if it were true? In the darkness, lying side by side facing each other on her bed, Matt had held her hand and assured her that everything would be fine. He would stand by her side no matter what happened. She looked into his earnest blue eyes and tried very hard to believe him.

But today the waiting was over at last and Doc would examine her to find out for sure. It was the middle of the night and Matt had sneaked her down her back stairs and over to Doc's where she could be examined comfortably. Sitting in his outer room, Kitty gripped Matt's hand so tightly he thought she'd cut off his circulation. But she was welcoming his touch again today and that was something to be thankful for, and Matt tried to hold onto that hopeful thought in the midst of his anxiety for her.

Doc shuffled out, his face creased with worry, too, as he reached out an arm for her. "You stay here, Matt. I promise I'll take good care of her." He looked into her face when she stood before him and murmured with conviction, "Young lady, whatever we find out today, we'll work through this together, you understand? You are not alone in this."

Mutely nodding, overcome at the kindness of those she loved most, she followed Doc into his examining room with a reluctant, backward glance over her shoulder at Matt. He sat, twisting his hat in his hands, furious that Jude Bonner had possibly invaded her body and her life yet again. He thought of Bonner sitting in a jail cell in Hays City awaiting execution, and wished that he could execute the man with his bare hands. When would this nightmare ever end?

After an interminable length of time in which Matt rose, restlessly pacing the small room over and over, and finally perching himself on the edge of his seat again, Doc emerged with Kitty, fully dressed, behind him. She had tears in her eyes and Matt's stomach lurched. She whispered, "I think I need to sit down," and suddenly sank down as though her knees had failed her. Doc and Matt both grabbed an elbow and eased her into a chair.

Matt put an arm around her shoulders. "Are you okay, Kitty? Doc, what's the verdict?" he asked fretfully, looking from one to the other.

Kitty smiled through her tears and choked out, "It's okay, Matt. Doc says I'm not pregnant."

Doc repeated, "It's okay. Everything's going to be fine."

tbc

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	3. Chapter 3

Needing Kitty

by Lilyjack

Chapter 3

The sun mercilessly beat down as Kitty stood beside Matt and Doc in the crowded town square of Hays City. Sweat trickled uncomfortably down her back and between her breasts while they waited for Jude Bonner to be escorted out of the jailhouse to the newly constructed scaffold that loomed before them. The air was buzzing with the voices of a hundred or more people and thick with the smell of fresh sawdust, human perspiration and horse urine. Kitty delicately fluttered a lavender scented fan to help combat the assault to her olfactory senses while at least giving the sensation of a breeze to her sweltering skin.

The three of them stood unobtrusively in the back. Kitty wore a hat with a veil draped down over her face, tucked under her chin, in hopes of being unrecognized. Little chance of that, with the strapping six foot, seven inch marshal of Dodge City as her escort. The marshal's woman cut a striking figure herself even with her face shadowed by a veil, with red hair that glinted in the relentless sun and a seemingly flawless complexion, aided by paint to help cover the residual scars of her ordeal. She wore a modest traveling suit of brown, very fashionable and well-made, but high-necked and circumspect, something one wore when one did not wish to draw unwanted attention.

Kitty Russell never dreamed there'd come a day in her life when she'd hide in her rooms, afraid to come out, fearful of what people might be saying about her. She'd always been strong, independent, and unmindful of what others said. You couldn't be a woman saloon owner in this world and let other people's gossip trouble you or you wouldn't be in business too awful long.

But Jude Bonner had taken that away from her. The whole town knew what had happened to her that fateful day, and she could imagine how gossip had spread throughout the countryside. Sensational news spread fast in these parts. She wondered how many people in the crowd gathered here now to watch an outlaw die knew what he and his men had done and if some of the quiet whispering behind hands was about her. It made her sick to her stomach. But she had braved her fears to come out today of all days.

Matt had not wanted her to come. A hanging was violent and messy, and he didn't want Kitty to be subjected to that, after everything that she had suffered already. But she explained to him that she somehow needed to witness it. She needed to see for herself when Jude Bonner was dead and gone, and perhaps then she might cease having the nightmares that plagued her in the dark of the night, robbing them both of sleep and making her so anxious she sometimes was even afraid to close her eyes in the evening.

Suddenly there was a low murmuring in the crowd, and they all peered back to see several watchful Hays City lawmen carrying guns and escorting Jude Bonner from the jailhouse, wrists handcuffed and ankles chained. He was a powerful man, tall and strong and heavily muscled, easily capable of holding down a woman half his size and committing unspeakable crimes against her.

Even chained and guarded, the sight of him made Kitty's blood go cold, but she felt Matt's arm latch tightly around her waist while Doc wrapped a supporting arm around her shoulders. Doc had outright refused to let her make this trip without him along. Kitty, now weak in the knees and suddenly doubting her decision to come today, was unutterably grateful that both men stood here by her side.

Bonner's eyes raked the crowd as he trudged toward the gallows, his expression defiant while the muscles in his jaws worked angrily. He walked past them accompanied by the jangling of chain links dragging along the dusty street, and he suddenly pulled up short when he spotted the tall marshal. His eyes narrowed at Matt Dillon, but his attention quickly shifted to the striking redhead at his side. The lawmen attempted to push him along with the butts of their guns, but he jerked against them as his eyes widened in recognition. Jude Bonner spoke in a low voice, "Lady, I thought I killed you." His head tilted back and his lip curled as he added, "Guess I underestimated you."

Matt and Doc reacted quickly, clenching their fists and stepping forward to cut him off. But Kitty silently raised her hands and halted them both. She took a step, lifting the veil so that Bonner could see her face. She confronted the demon of her nightmares and resolved to show no fear. With a delicately raised brow and a glint in her eye, she quipped, "Well, I guess that means you were dead wrong, Sunshine."

The Hays City lawmen jerked Bonner along before he had a chance to answer, and he glared over his shoulder at the Dodge Marshal and his formidable woman as he marched to the gallows to die.

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The stagecoach ride back from Hays City had been long and hot and choked with dust. She and Doc and Matt had been the only passengers, and Kitty had been immensely relieved at that. They'd all three been in a quiet, contemplative mood after the dark gallows scene they'd witnessed. It was difficult, watching a man's death throes, but Matt assured her that Jude Bonner deserved it without a doubt. He'd said it with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes that told her he still hadn't gotten over what had happened to Kitty, just like she hadn't either.

Who could have known that the fateful events of one afternoon could hurt a person so deeply? That the repercussions would be so long-lasting and spread so readily to the ones who were closest to you? But every day now was a little better. And she'd learned that's how she had to handle things—one day at a time. Any more was too overwhelming for her.

She hoped Matt was not getting too frustrated with her. She didn't know when they'd ever gone so long without making love before. But Doc had said he'd "explained things" to Matt. Hopefully Matt understood that it was slow-going, being able to let someone touch you again once you'd been beaten senseless, every private part of you exposed, ravaged, taken, again and again until you nearly died.

She was absolutely terrified that some things between her and Matt would never return to normal. She worried that he would become tired of waiting and leave her. But Matt had been nothing but gentle and kind and reassuring towards her. He was careful never to surprise her with his touch. And he'd certainly shown no indication that he was ready to give up on her. Those were just her own private fears rearing their ugly heads.

They slept side by side on her bed each night, and he held her hand until she fell asleep, in hopes that she would not wake screaming from another vivid, violent nightmare. He would rock her gently when she awoke in utter terror, stroking her hot, fevered cheek as she sobbed and rubbing her perspiring back, soothing her softly, softly, until she had calmed enough to try and sleep again. But now, she wondered, since the monster in her dreams was really dead, would he cease torturing her sleep? She prayed it was so.

She sat at her dresser in her nightgown, brushing her hair before bed, when Matt knocked quietly. He'd taken to knocking lately because he didn't want to surprise her again like he had during her bath. Thankfully, most of the marks on her body had faded, except for a puckered scar in her side where the bullet hole had been, but she still tended to be jumpy about such things. She was anxious and protective of her body. It was supremely difficult to unlearn those behaviors you'd acquired instinctively through an unspeakably traumatic experience.

"Come in, Matt," she called and smiled when he appeared behind her in the mirror.

He wordlessly held out his hand, the corners of his mouth turning up, and she passed him her brush. He'd always enjoyed brushing her hair out when they were together in the evenings, and it was pure balm to the soul for her as well—the soothing bristles warming her scalp, smoothing out the tangles of the day. She closed her eyes and let him do his comforting work, feeling her muscles relax and all the tension flow out of her body, right through that hairbrush, it seemed. She gave a little hum of pleasure, and then the brushing stopped. Opening her eyes, she found him watching her in the mirror.

"What?" she asked curiously.

He cleared his throat and asked with a hopeful smile, "Miss Kitty, will you do me the honor of going to supper?"

Her brow crinkled, "Oh, Matt, I don't know..."

He straddled the padded bench beside her and pleaded, "Come on, honey. You can't stay locked up forever..."

"I know I can't, Matt. It's just that..."

"Just what? Kitty, you look fine." He laid the brush aside, taking her hand in his. "I know you were worried about your appearance early on, but..." He shook his head in frustration. "Sweetheart, if you get any prettier, I'm not going to be able to stand it." He suddenly grinned at her and she couldn't completely smother a smile as she glanced up into his twinkling eyes.

"But, Matt, I don't want people to talk."

"Kitty, you've never worried about people and their talk before, not since I first met you!"

"But this is different, Matt."

"I know it's different, honey, but let me tell you something." He placed a finger under her chin and gently raised her eyes to look into his own. "People in this town care about you, Kitty. Do you know how many men rode out in a posse to catch that son-of-a-bitch Bonner and his men? Half the town!"

She urgently squeezed his hand as she listened to him talk.

"People ask me about you every single day! They're worried about you!" He raised an eyebrow. "Even those old biddies and gossips who talk bad about everybody."

Kitty snorted out an unladylike laugh.

"Honestly! You don't believe me you can ask Doc. Or Festus. Folks are driving us crazy. You are sorely missed."

"I am?" she breathed, admiring the way his lashes framed his honest blue eyes, crinkled at the corners from years of squinting out in the hot prairie sun.

"You are. I miss you, sweetheart." He rolled his eyes as he complained, "I'm forced to eat at Delmonico's with Festus and Doc all the time, for pete's sake."

She chuffed out a laugh again and stroked the back of his hand with her fingers. "Is that so bad?"

"Well, I'd rather have my girl by my side, wearin' a pretty dress and smellin' pretty, too, instead of two old goats who argue all the time."

"Hmm...well, maybe, now that you put it that way..." She bit her lip and then smiled.

"Miss Kitty, will you please go to supper with me tomorrow night? I would be honored to escort you."

Her eyes traveled to his soft lips as he spoke, the same soft lips that had asked her to be his girl when they sat under the shade of the cottonwood tree at that old shack where the Gunther brothers had taken her, more years ago than she cared to remember. The same soft lips that told her he needed her when she lay broken and hurting in Doc's office. And the same sweet, soft lips that comforted her when she woke from her nightmares, soothing her and telling her everything would be alright.

Her eyes were drawn to those lips, and she drew a finger gently down his cheek, murmuring, "I would be proud to go to supper with you, Marshal Dillon."

His voice hitched a note higher. "You would?"

"Yes, I would. How can a girl turn down an offer from the most eligible bachelor in town?" Her eyebrow arched and her lips pursed mischievously.

"Bachelor?" he snorted, then grabbed his hat and stood.

"Where are you going?" she questioned in surprise.

"I'm leaving. I'll pick you up at six tomorrow for supper. How's that sound?"

"Well, okay I guess..."

Jamming his hat on his head, he called "See ya', Kitty," and closed the door behind him.

She placed a hand on her hip, muttering, "Well, if that don't beat all..."

Suddenly, the door opened and Matt popped his head back inside, piping up, "I've got rounds to do tonight. Festus is busy. I'll be back in about an hour. What would you do if you had nightmares?" He started to close the door again, but, on second thought, added, "But don't think you're going to take advantage of me before our dinner date. I have standards, you know..." The door closed behind him again. Kitty laughed and shook her head, climbing into bed to read a book until Matt got home.

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Festus announced, "Now, see here, I'm a payin' tonight. This here is a selly-bration." He dug in the pocket of his best pair of pants and came out with a few wadded bills which he unwaveringly tossed on the checkered tablecloth at Delmonico's, giving a firm nod and a grunt and daring anybody to say a word.

His three companions sat with open mouths at Festus's pronouncement. They couldn't remember a time when he'd willingly paid for a drink, let alone a meal for four people.

Festus was dressed in his best gingham shirt, buttoned to the very top, hair slicked down, and he smelled like he might've even had a bath before he came. Placing a hand in the middle of his chest, he proclaimed earnestly, "Miss Kitty, I shore have missed you somethin' fierce, and I'm tickled pink that you've...well, you've come back to us." He pressed his lips together, gazing at her sincerely while her eyes misted with tears, and determinedly added, "I surely do mean that, with all my heart."

Kitty realized the whiskey he'd shared with Doc after supper had helped to oil Festus's usual reserve, but she truly appreciated the sentiment all the same. She knew his intent was genuine, and she reached across the table to grasp his hand in both of hers. "Thank you, Festus," she smiled warmly, blinking back the mutinous tears.

She'd promised herself she wouldn't get emotional this evening, her first out in public in Dodge, but the citizens of this town seemed to be conspiring against her. When Matt had picked her up at six o'clock promptly, as promised, she had wanted to slip down the back stairs, but Matt had insisted they go through the Long Branch, as usual. Everyone wanted to see her, he'd explained. Might as well get it all over with tonight.

She'd made her way down the staircase into the saloon with great trepidation in her heart, wondering what people would be thinking of her, if they would stare, what they would say. Then she was met with a burst of piano music. The room full of happily drinking men and gaily-dressed saloon girls had launched into a poorly rehearsed song, a raucous version of Stephen Foster's classic, with apologies to the songwriter later from Sam, called "I Dream of Kitty with the Bright Red Hair." She'd laughed until she had to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes, and Sam had hugged her so tightly she thought he'd burst her stays, or maybe even her stitches if they hadn't already been healed, murmuring in her ear, "It's so good to have you back, Miss Kitty. It just wasn't the same around here without you."

The short walk from the saloon to Delmonico's had taken quite a while, as they were stopped every few steps by ordinary folks, young and old, respectable and some not so much, to shake her hand and ask after her health politely, their eyes shining sincerely. Kitty was so relieved at her reception, she didn't know what to do.

And so she'd held on tight to Matt's arm while he strutted happily down the street with his best girl, the prettiest girl in all of Dodge, he said, even though she protested to Matt that she was a bit long in the tooth to be anybody's "girl." He'd just thrown back his head and laughed. She could tell he was relieved as well, but it felt so good to be walking on Front Street with the man she loved more than life itself that she was, for the first time in a long time, simply glad to be alive.

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After supper, she and Matt had parted company with Doc and Festus in front of the Long Branch. Kitty had kissed both of them soundly on their blushing cheeks before they'd sauntered inside, arm in arm, to continue their "selly-bration."

It was nearly a full moon, and the evening had cooled off nicely, so Matt wanted to take her for a buggy ride. When they were safely out of town and away from prying eyes, she scooted up close to Matt, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, as was their custom on their occasional private moonlit drives to the river. She gave a deep, contented sigh, nestling into him and inhaling his familiar scent with the addition of some fancy shaving soap she could detect on his smooth skin this fine evening.

"Kitty, are you alright?" This was her first night out and about, and he didn't want to push her too far.

"I'm just fine, Matt Dillon." She gave him a squeeze around the middle and added, "Thank you."

He grunted, then repeated, "Thank you?"

"For encouraging me when I needed it. For knowing when I was ready, even if I didn't."

He stopped the horse at a small clearing next to the river. They watched the moon shining on the water- magical, flickering silver on black, listening to the frogs and the crickets and holding each other tight. Feeling the steady, reassuring heartbeat of the other, measuring the breath of the other where their bodies melted together. On a night like this, when the world was perfect, she felt like the two of them together were actually one.

Kitty reached up and removed Matt's hat, and he leaned down to murmur in a low, rumbling voice that tickled her belly, "Can I kiss you now, honey?"

She ducked her head and whispered, "You know, I like it when you call me that."

He touched her soft cheek, marveling at how beautiful she still was after all the time that had passed between them. "You do, huh?"

"I sure do." He saw her eyes tilt coyly up at him in the bright darkness.

"What'll I get if I call you 'honey' again?" He nuzzled her ear warmly. "Will you be my girl?" Giving a throaty chuckle, he added, "...honey?"

She nuzzled him right back, breathing in the heady scent of Matt Dillon and his fancy soap. "I sure will."

He gave her a charming smile, the same lopsided grin she'd fallen in love with so many years ago, and then he admitted, "You know, I've been waitin' for this for a very long time."

She threaded her fingers in his soft, graying curls and breathed, "Well then, what are you waitin' for? Shut up and kiss me, Cowboy."

end

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